


How to End a Story

by telm_393



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Child Neglect, Dark, Extra Treat, Gen, Insomnia, Pre-Canon, Supernatural Elements, ToT: Monster Mash, Trick or Treat: Trick, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-26 20:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12565876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telm_393/pseuds/telm_393
Summary: Twelve year old Jason Mendoza can't sleep, so he goes out and makes an imaginary friend instead.





	How to End a Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [burglebezzlement](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burglebezzlement/gifts).



> The child neglect is around the same level as, say, Eleanor or Tahani because I decided to go with the precedents set by their childhoods for Jason's definitely-going-to-be-Jossed backstory.
> 
> Also, there is past minor original character (parent) death, and a brief mention of canonical major character death in that the death of a major character who is already dead in canon is mentioned, though not explicitly described.

Jason’s mom is lying on the couch staring at the TV. Jason’s pretty sure she’s not really paying attention to the black and white sitcoms playing, though. She's just spaced out. At least today she turned the TV on before she started watching it.

She’s been like this since they lost his dad.

(They haven’t found him yet. Jason wonders when they will.)

He tried to talk to her, but she was doing bills today and she’s very tired, Jamie, please, please just go play outside, very far away from me.

Jason is twelve, and everyone says he’s too young to go out alone at night, but he does anyway because his mom keeps sighing really, really loud and it’s starting to suck the air out of the living room, and she told him to anyway, and Jason’s supposed to do what people tell him to, and he wants to make his mom happy, so he does what she says.

Jason wanders around for a little while, not lost but not sure where he is either, humming to himself, waiting until he’s tired enough that he’ll go to sleep when he gets home, because that’s probably why his mom told him to go play, to tire him out. He doesn’t sleep enough. He has too much energy, that’s what everyone says.

He’s been awake for like three days now.

He stops at the pier closest to his trailer park. It was destroyed like a million years ago by some storm, but they never took it down—here they never take anything down—and he walks right up to the edge and sits, keeping away from the splinters and rotted wood.

He looks down at the water and he can’t see his reflection through all the gross green plant stuff, but he likes it because it feels like home. No matter what, Jason has his home.

He goes away into his head, cleans up in there, picks up and organizes all the clutter and clears the clouds, or he tries. Nothing’s changed when he opens his eyes. His mind is as mixed up as it always is.

But at least he’s tired now. Even his body is finally droopy, which means it’s time to go back, but when he steps off the pier, he sees _him,_ a somebody he’s sure he’s never met before, because he thinks he’d remember someone with such blue eyes, such golden hair.

And he’d definitely remember a man who glows like there’s moonlight coming from all his insides and edges. Jason isn’t afraid of the dark, but the light still makes him want to come closer.

Mr. Nightlight is dressed all in white, but his clothes aren’t dirty. Jason wonders how he does that. White clothes always get dirty here. They’re very impracticable.

He doesn’t move, just looks, because Mr. Nightlight might be a stranger, but no strangers have ever hurt Jason before and he doesn’t know why they’d start now.

The man smiles and takes a step towards him. He’s friendly. Jason’s friendly too because there's nothing else he knows how to be, so he doesn't step away. The world is very swirly anyway, and there’s something about Mr. Nightlight that’s different enough that Jason can’t leave him yet, and not just the glowing. It’s the look in his eyes, like he knows everything, and he doesn’t look like any real person Jason’s ever seen either, so he must be imaginary, and if he’s imaginary then he’s a part of Jason and maybe—maybe Jason’s finally found the piece of his brain that knows all the things everyone says he should.

_(Which picture doesn’t belong? Do you know what this says? Can you sound it out? What year is it? What day is it? What’s twenty minus two? What’s ten times ten? Can you write twenty thousand seventy two hundred out in a number for me? Where does the sun rise? What should you do when people are talking, but not to you, and they say something interesting? Why would stealing gum from the store be wrong? Jamie, are you listening? Do you understand?_

It's funny, because everyone always listens real close when Jason answers questions, but never when he tells them he hates being called Jamie.)

Jason shakes his head hard to make the thoughts roll away, and no one's talked yet, so he guesses he'll go first. “Hi!” 

Mr. Nightlight smiles a little wider. Jason smiles back because that’s what he does. Smiles so people will like him.

Mr. Nightlight’s eyes look like they’ve just been painted on, like a wooden doll, but there’s still something alive in them that feels like deep, clear water, like if Jason looks close enough, he’ll see his reflection.

He doesn’t, though.

Mr. Nightlight says, “Hello, Jason,” and his voice is very quiet. It rises and falls like piano music, and makes Jason step close. It feels a little like he's drunk. Buzzed at least.

“Who are you?”

“A friend.”

 _Do you know things?_ Jason wants to ask, but he doesn’t. He’s too afraid Mr. Nightlight will say no.

Instead, he asks, “Why are you here?”

“To take you to a better place,” Mr. Nightlight says, and then, like a just-now thought, he says, “If you want.”

Jason’s not sure what that means, but _a better place_ sounds about right.

“Where is it?”

“You’re not very happy, are you?” Mr. Nightlight asks, even though that's not even a little close to an answer, and for a second Jason wants to scream, because he doesn’t want _more questions._

He answers anyway, just because he’s used to it, says the first thing he thinks. “Nah-uh. That's not true. I’m not sad. I like it here. If I don’t pay that much attention, things aren’t as hard as people say they should be.”

“But you deserve better,” Mr. Nightlight says, and Jason nods, because that’s probably true if the part of his brain that knows things is telling him it is. “And I can make things better for you right now.”

Jason tilts his head, because maybe if he looks at things differently, he’ll see them clearer. He doesn’t. He just feels dizzy.

He wonders where the part of him that sleeps is.

He’s not getting anything from this guy, and he’s tired.

“Won’t you come with me into the water?” Mr. Nightlight asks, and Jason was taking a breath, but it stops halfway down his throat.

“Huh?”

“Under the water, you don’t have to know anything, because you’ll know everything, because there’ll be nothing but happiness. Nothing but rest. Nothing at all.”

Nothing at all and happiness aren’t the same thing.

Jason knows that.

He’s not stupid.

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he says, “I don’t really wanna go for a swim.”

Mr. Nightlight’s smile is gone now, and he squints his eyes like he’s studying Jason. Maybe he’s confused. People look confused at Jason all the time. Jason thinks it’s because _they_ think they know everything about him, but it’s not true.

People aren’t as smart as they think they are.

“If you want better things than what you have, then come with me.”

Jason shakes his head. “Nah.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t come with me,” Mr. Nightlight says, and his voice is a little higher.

“I don’t need help.”

Mr. Nightlight is quiet for a long time before he says, “I really thought you’d come with me. I really thought you were that kind of boy.”

“What kind of boy?”

“The kind who wants to leave the bad things behind as soon as possible. As soon as you can.”

“It’s not that bad, though,” Jason says. “And if I go with you into the water, I won’t be able to breathe.”

“Well,” Mr. Nightlight says, and then he goes quiet like he’s looking for words but can’t find them, and that’s fine because this is too much. This whole thing has made his body electric again, and Jason doesn’t know how he’ll get back to wanting to sleep, but he still just wants to curl up and _try._

Jason says, very slowly, “I don’t wanna.”

Mr. Nightlight’s eyes look darker than they were before. “I guess I was wrong, then.”

Jason's head hurts. He really wanted this to be the part of him that was right, but he guesses it was just wishful hoping. “It’s okay,” he whispers, even though he feels like his heart's being squeezed by a juicer. “I’m wrong a lot.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m just wrong for _now._ Someday you will come with me,” Mr. Nightlight says, and he sounds very sure. “Someday you’ll want what you deserve, and I’ll be there when you go looking. I’m a part of you. I’m a part of everyone.”

Well, duh, if he's imaginary he's gotta be a part of Jason. None of the other words really make a home in Jason's mind, dripping from his brain before he can even understand them, and Jason's done with tonight, so he turns away. He doesn't have anything else to say, not right now, not to him, so Jason leaves Mr. Nightlight behind because he just needs to sleep because everything'll be brighter when he wakes up.

When he gets home, his mom is sleeping on the couch, and Jason is pulled towards her, because maybe she’ll want to hear what he has to say this time. His story is interesting, and Jason thinks his mom is bored a lot, so this'll help, and he needs to _say,_ because if he doesn’t he’ll keep vibrating like he is now, not drooping anymore.

He kicks off his shoes before tiptoeing over to his mom and pushing at her shoulder. "Mommy, listen,” he whispers.

She groans and curls up tighter. "Not now, Jamie," she says.

Sometimes it feels like Not-Now-Jamie is Jason's real name.

Jason sighs and whines, "But I have a _story."_

"Not _now,_ Jamie," mom says again, and then she doesn't say or do anything.

Jason shrugs and climbs onto the arm of the couch. He doesn’t push at her anymore, just talks, even though she’s blocked him out. "Okay. When you told me to go away I went away and I went to the pier, the one that's all broken that I think you told me to never go to one time? But that might've been someone else. Anyway, I went there and I found someone, some white dude just, like, there? But he looked weird. I think he was imaginary, but I don’t know why because he didn’t really _do_ anything, I don’t think he knew everything but I didn’t really ask. And he said come with me into the water but it's weird to swim at night, right? So I didn't do it!” Jason stops and screws up his face.

Shouldn't there be more to be a real story? Where's the end?

"He said he'd give me a better life," Jason says, quieter than he usually is because it feels like whispering is the thing to do right now. "Said he'd give me the life I deserved.” He rubs his hands together because he must be cold. They’re shaking.

"He said come with me into the water," Jason says again. "The end."

But it doesn't feel like closing a book or turning off the TV. It's not done.

Jason guesses he deserves better, even if he's not sure what, and he definitely didn't get better this time.

But he's not going to find the life he deserves underwater, is he? Not unless he doesn't deserve a life at all, and Jason's sure that that's not right.

He says, again, "The _end._ By Jason Mendoza."

He thinks that if he adds that last part, it’ll _really_ make all this be over, but it doesn’t help, because when he looks out the window just before he finally goes to sleep, Mr. Nightlight is right outside, smiling.

The smile reminds Jason of the kind of moonlight that turns the sky red.

(The years pass, but every time Jason stays awake too long, Mr. Nightlight comes to say hi, and the very last thing Jason sees in his mind's eye as he finally fades away is that smile.)

Jason thinks that if this is what imaginary friends are, they're not that great. He almost says it, too, but Mr. Nightlight waves goodbye just as Jason opens his mouth, and Jason doesn't even have the time to call out to him, _listen to me,_ because Mr. Nightlight is gone so fast that Jason's not even sure which way he went. 

He's just not there.

At least Jason's not afraid of the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Who is Mr. Nightlight? I don't actually know.


End file.
